


Mr. Brightside

by LadySpartacus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, It's all his fault, New Years, but jon is a moody bitch, ehh idk, he made this so much longer than i planned, this was only supposed to be a quick one-shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySpartacus/pseuds/LadySpartacus
Summary: It was only a kiss. One stupid little kiss. A New Year’s kiss with Arya Stark. It shouldn’t have meant anything. Not now, not after all these years.Initially inspired by the song Mr. Brightside by The Killers and only slightly inspired further by the gendrya fanfic 'A Part of You' by elenei





	Mr. Brightside

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys! Surprise! It's totally inexcusably late but here's a little something I had planned to release for New Year's but it ended up becoming a much bigger story than I planned. Cause that's just how things always seem to go when I write lol! Plus, it's totally Jon's fault! He's so angsty! Yup, it's Jon's fault! That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
> 
> Anywho, this was supposed to be a one-shot, and while I still consider it a one-shot more or less... It's being split up into more than one chapter. It's still not fully done as there's a bit of filler I have to get thru. But I do know the ending, well... technically two endings, that I'm going back and forth between. But either one will work, I'm just not sure which I like better yet.
> 
> Oh and, the next release you can expect from me for Jonrya will be a horror themed prompt provided by the ever-amazing LadyBee! Bwahahahaaaa!! I'm enjoying the theme even though keeping it horror is hard lol
> 
> Well, back to the story... Hope you all enjoy it!

It was only a kiss. One stupid little kiss. A New Year’s kiss with Arya Stark. It shouldn’t have meant anything. Not now, not after all these years.

Jon had a girlfriend, a girlfriend he was supposed to love, or at least that’s what he told her, told everyone, told himself…

But this kiss… there were cheers and drunkenness and fireworks and loud music and people kissing all around them, yet time seemed to stand still in that one moment. All the air in the world had somehow escaped… a true kiss for the ages!

There was just one little problem… he wasn’t on the receiving end of that kiss. Some other man was, as Jon stood helplessly from the middle of Times Square looking up at the jumbo screen where various couples were being featured after the ball had dropped, chief among them was Arya and some random guy, whose face Jon couldn’t quite make out. They were kissing, like there was no tomorrow. And Jon had felt like he was overseas, in the middle of a war zone, being shot by friendly fire. Again.

For 15 years, since Jon was five and Arya was a baby, his New Year’s kiss had always been with the same person. With what was supposed to be an innocent little peck. A tradition of sorts… but then Jon had enlisted, despite her begging him not to. And the tradition had been broken. It was a bit hard to keep to a tradition when you were half a world away fighting the “good fight” so to speak.

It had been five years since their tradition had been broken, and it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not about a kiss, not about Arya and some rando. Not when he had someone to kiss already. Not now…

Jealousy!

The word burst forth in his mind like the fireworks surrounding him. He was jealous. He had never been jealous, not when it came to Arya. Because she had always been his, hadn’t she!? From the moment she was born, they had belonged to each other. Two grey-eyed, brunette children together against the world, always. Always and forever. Or at least that’s how it was supposed to be.

But he had messed things up… had gone off to fight in some war that never should’ve been, dated other women that weren’t her, and pushed her away for reasons he now knew were a load of shit. All this time he had rationalized that it was for the best, that he wasn’t good enough or she deserved so much better or that it was wrong because they were cousins, distant cousins but still. But he knew, somewhere deep down that those excuses were just bullshit, complete and utter bullshit. He was scared. Scared to move things forward, scared of how everyone else would react, scared that their age difference would complicate things, scared that he would ruin her life, scared that their relationship would be ruined. Scared that- that she wouldn’t feel the same as him as she grew up.

Coward. That’s what he was. No more than a coward. And if he really thought about it, he could pinpoint the exact moment he became such a coward.

It had been New Year’s, five years prior. The last New Year’s. For them at least. Arya was 15 to his 20, with her just barely on the cusp of womanhood. She had looked so pretty back then in her short, deep blue dress and heels. Cherry red lipstick painted on her lips and hair all done up. He had never seen her look like that. It was always jeans and t-shirts with her. But for some reason, she was dressed up that year, probably Catelyn’s idea. Still she had been so breath-taking. It was the first time he had realized, truly realized, just how beautiful and special Arya was. Sure he had always known she was really pretty and everything anyone could ever wish for even if she didn’t, but it had never really hit him, not until that moment.

Everything about that night had been normal, Robb was surrounded by all the girls, Theon had run off to Roz’s most likely, Sansa was being the perfect “lady” and host like her mother, his Uncle Ned was trying to contain the drunkenness of Robert Baratheon along with all the other plastered guests, the kids were all running around with sparklers, even Bran seemed to be having a good time, and Arya had been glued to Jon's side as usual. The only difference was the sweat beading at his forehead, the flush of heat along his back, and his stomach doing 360s inside of him. He had been so inexplicably antsy and uneasy the whole night and constantly checking the clock, like he was waiting for something other than midnight.

And then, just as usual, Arya had grabbed his hand and a pack of cheap beer, he had snuck her some the past two years so of course she would take some again, and together they snuck off to their secret hiding place. There was a hidden access to a part of the roof that overlooked the estate but that couldn’t be seen by anyone else. The perfect place to view the fireworks away from the crowd. They had gone there every year since she turned 7 when they discovered it, just the two of them. To lay out on sleeping bags, eat snacks, talk, and welcome in the new year.

When they got up there, it was the same as it always was, Arya curled into his side, sipping on beer he knew she didn’t like but drank anyways, chatting about everything and nothing, and just counting down the time. Nothing new, besides his stomach flips and Arya’s choice in dress.

Then the countdown began. They could hear it from below, they always could, and he was pretty sure all of the North could hear them.

“…5! 4! 3! 2! 1!!!! HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!!” Cheers rang out immediately followed by the loud whizzing and banging of fireworks!

He turned towards her then, the final part of their tradition waiting to be fulfilled, and then… there she was. Looking up at him, eyes dark and full of mercury and all the stars in the sky, full lips puckered and expecting.

He kissed her. Well and truly kissed her. Deep and with more longing than he realized he was capable of. Fireworks going off in his soul. He couldn’t help himself, he just couldn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol running thru his veins, or just being caught in the moment and he knew he shouldn’t have, but he did. He properly kissed her. And she kissed him back.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been at it, but when he finally stopped to catch his breath, the fireworks had pretty much stopped popping above them and he was hovering atop her with her dress pulled down to her waist; one hand on her bare breast and the other inside her little black panties, still working her with his fingers. And it was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before Arya’s soft lips were on his again. Then clothes were being tossed to the side and his cock was squeezing its way into her, taking her virginity and giving her his in return. He should’ve put a stop to it long before it got to that point, but the way she had kissed him, the feel of her hands on him, the softness of her skin, her voice moaning and calling out his name… it was just too much for him to stop. But that didn’t mean the weight of what he had done didn’t come crashing down on him.

That next morning, when he woke up on the roof, cock still buried inside her, arms and legs tangled together under the blankets they had been sitting on, he just about had a panic attack. Because it all came rushing back to him… the dress, the kiss, everything. Including the fact that he didn’t use protection…

Because she was young. She was so young, only 15. Too young to be accidentally getting pregnant. She had her whole life ahead of her. A life that was supposed to be filled with dances and college and work and travel and love and heartbreak… A life that he had no right to steal from her.  

And it’s true that she might not have gotten pregnant then, but what about the next time? What if he lost control again? What then?! Those thoughts scared him to no end.

So he made a decision, there on that damned roof. He would let her go. The only way he knew how… the very next day he enlisted. He’d always thought about it. A way to live a honorable life and in some small way erase the stain left behind by his father who tore his family apart and ruined the lives of many others.

 And of course, she begged him to stay. To not leave her behind. But his mind was already made up. He would go and she would be free to live her life.

After he left, she tried so many times to reach him. By letters, emails, phone… but it was too much. The pain was just too much for him to handle. So he ignored her, ignored the rest of his family, and buried himself in his training, then in his missions for nearly five years. Even when they needed him, when she needed him most of all; when her father, the man who raised him, passed away. With time the letters and all other forms of contact became more and more scarce. Till they stopped altogether.

But then his military career had suddenly ended. He had been shot up, not his first time, but the first time he had died from it. He was legally dead for two and half minutes they told him; shot by his own men. And once he’d been healed up enough, they honorably discharged him. Dropped him back in Westeros with nowhere to go but back to Winterfell. Only, he couldn’t go back, not to Winterfell. Not after the way he’d left things. How could he face her? After all this time, how could he look her in the eyes?

Coward. He was still such a coward. So he didn’t go back and instead travelled about from place to place before finally settling down on the Island State of Dragonstone. Got himself an apartment, a job running the mines, new friends, even a girlfriend.

That’s how he ended up in the middle of King’s Landing’s famous Times Square. His girlfriend had wanted to go for New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t really his scene, but since she had really wanted to attend and they only had to cross a bridge to get to the city he’d relented. Only to wind up seeing the worst thing he thought he’d ever seen.

The only girl he’d ever truly loved was kissing another man for the whole world to see. She had moved on.

He knew it would end up happening eventually, he just never thought he’d be witness to it. Never thought it would hurt this much. Never thought he would be pushing his way through a crowd of people just to find her, even just one glimpse.

Yet he was, he was currently pushing and squeezing past throngs of celebrating people. He’d even left his girlfriend behind, hadn’t even kissed her. It was a shitty thing to do, but fuck all if he cared. There was only one thing, one person on his mind. _Arya_ … he just had to find her. See her, talk to her and tell her… tell her what!? What was he going to say _\- ‘Oh hey, sorry, I know I left after taking your virginity and stopped talking to you altogether without explanation, but I’m going to need you to stop kissing other men now. Nevermind that I have been with other women and currently have a girlfriend, but you belong to me so that ponce is gonna have to go.’_ Could he be any more of an asshole?!

Ugh, he never felt like more of a prick than in this moment. So why was he still searching for any sign of her? He had no idea how he would even begin to apologize or explain, still he needed to find her. She had to still be there somewhere among the masses; he would have to get to high ground if he was to stand a chance of finding her. Somewhere that the cameras would’ve been able to reach seeing as she was on a jumbotron. That’s where he needed to look from.

 _‘There!’_ that was the place to search from, up by the stage. He wasn’t too far from the stage, maybe a hundred yards or so. He could make it. He could still find her, if he could only get to the stage.

A hard and sudden tug on his arm caught his attention, however. Turning back, he looked down only to see his girlfriend staring at him with a pissed expression.

“Jon! What in the seven hells!? You took off like you saw a ghost! You just left me there! Looking like an idiot! –The fuck is going on!?”

 _‘Crap.’_ He forgot about her. How was he going to explain this in a way she could process??? There was no good way to tell his girlfriend that he was chasing after the woman he loved and that it was over between them. Her expression was about to go from pissed to enraged in a moment. Seeing as she was someone not accustomed to being denied he knew he might be in for a hell of a scream out and maybe a black eye from any one of her friends, and probably a wrecked apartment. Not that he would blame her or them if that ended up happening; but their relationship had to end here and now.

It was probably one of the worst times to break up with someone; at least they had come with her friends so she would have someone to help her get home safely. And it had been less horrible than he imagined, though that was probably because he hadn’t properly clarified why they were breaking up and that he bolted as soon as the words came out of his mouth. As he disappeared into the crowd, he could still hear her cursing him and crying along with a few shouts of disapproval from nearby strangers. It no longer mattered however so long as he found Arya.

Finally, he was approaching the stage. It was the moment of truth. If the gods, the old gods, were on his side, he’d find her. He’d always been able to find her when they were children. He only prayed he still could.

As he stepped onto the stage, when the guards were distracted, his thoughts became full-blown pleas to the gods. _‘Please. Pleeeaase. Please! Just let me see her!’_

His head whipped about every which way! That’s when he saw, there in the family-friendly section… brunette hair surrounded by a host of red hair.

 _‘Arya…’_ ...He found her.

Five years, it had been about five years since he last saw her. Since he last saw any of his family. They hadn’t seen him yet and Arya’s back was still turned towards him as his feet begun to carry him in their direction. To carry him to her.

He was so close, everything he’d ever desired within his reach. His mouth opened, intent on calling out to her before his brain stopped him, when a large arm shot out and touched her shoulder. She turned in the direction of the arm’s owner, as did Jon.

Smiling. She was smiling as she looked up at the man, possibly the same man whom kissed her earlier. But it wasn’t the man that caught his attention, it was the small child the man was carrying that stopped Jon dead in his tracks. A boy, no more than four or five years of age, with dark brown hair, a long face, and large mercury eyes had suddenly reached out for Arya. And then his heart also came to a screeching halt as one single word was uttered by the little boy, “Mommy!”

He was shot, right thru the heart, then gored by a serrated bayonet! In one single moment, the weight of the world came crashing down on him once again. Because it was a boy, a little boy of about four, a little boy of four with clearly Stark looks, a four year old Stark boy whose mother was Arya.

_‘Oh gods! Oh gods what have I done!?’_

She was pregnant. She was pregnant and he had left her. All alone for five years to raise his child!

_‘My son… that’s my son – I have a child… Arya and I have a child. And I left her!’_

He left her. He left her when she needed him the most. She had tried so hard to reach him for years, but he was a fool. He never once responded to her, never even bothered to read her messages. Nor even any of his families’ attempts to contact him. She had been trying to tell him, they all had, of that he was sure.

How could he do this!? How could he have just thrown everything away???!!! And how could he ever deign to believe, for even a moment, that he could still have a place in her life!? He had done something so truly heinous, absolutely unforgivable.

So he ran. Like the coward he was. Before anyone could spot him, he ran as fast as his legs could take him, not even bothering with the people he was running into. He ran and ran till he found himself lost in a slightly sketchy part of the city gasping for some semblance of air that he seemed unable to catch. Tears he hadn’t been aware of had made tracks all along his face and blurred his vision. His head was spinning, a dull aching pain beginning to form along his temples.

He needed to sit. Then he needed to find his way back to a busy street and find a cab that was still running at this time of night. Time of night. He didn’t even know what time it was. Hadn’t bothered to check since they arrived in the city.

11 calls, 24 texts, and 38 Facebook messages. Some he was certain, were well wishes, the rest… well, the rest he was positive had to do with the fact that only around an hour and half had passed since he unceremoniously dumped his girlfriend before thousands of people. On New Year’s no less. Just another awful thing he’s done. But he couldn’t think about that right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.

No today, and probably the rest of his days, all he would think about was a little boy with grey eyes, his mother, and a small bit toward the man who was clearly being more of a father to that little boy than Jon had ever been. A tinge of green colored the edges of his eyes when it came to thoughts of the man who replaced him.

At the moment, however, he needed to focus on getting home. Afterwards, he would look for the letters, the emails, and all the messages he’d never read. He had to know the truth of what he’d missed, what he’d walked away from. Only then would he consider how to proceed with making things right. If he could make things right, if there was any chance he might regain even a small amount of what he’d lost.

It had taken him a good twenty minutes or so just to find his way to a busy enough street and hail a cab. But he’d somehow done it without getting mugged; he’d heard the rumors about King’s Landing, everyone had. As the car drove to Dragonstone, across that long bridge, and the street lamps intermittently illuminated the way, Jon’s thoughts kept drifting back to everything that happened to get him to this point. Lost and alone and yearning for days long gone.

Pulling up to his apartment complex had left him with a deep sense of impending dread. Once he opened that “Pandora’s box” of messages from the past, there would be no closing it again. Not that he wanted to close it. He only prayed that at the bottom of that box there was even just a little bit of ‘hope’.

It wasn’t a very large apartment, but it had still taken him a good hour before he’d found that small, dusty box of _her_. Letters and photos and a couple of mementos were locked away inside. Along with his old email address and password, and the phone where he’d saved all her voicemails and texts. He didn’t know if he still had access to his old email or if it had been deleted due to inactivity, but he really hoped it was still there.

He pulled out his laptop and stared dumbly at the black screen for at least a good five minutes before snapping out of his stupor and turning the damned thing on. Still unsure of himself as to whether he should start with the emails, letters or phone messages, Jon stopped and decided if he was to continue on he’d need to fuel himself.

Dawn was beginning to break while Jon nibbled on toast and sipped his coffee. The hot liquid sliding down his throat allowed him to steady his nerves. His cowardice couldn’t be allowed to continue on; it wasn’t how Ned Stark raised him. He had to try to fix his mistakes no matter what.

Jon had chosen to start with the phone as it was quicker to listen to voicemail and read texts. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for the battery being dead, but some luck was on his side as it at least seemed to still charge.

Since the phone would have to wait, he opened the box containing the letters next. The emails he decided would be last, because the possibility of him replying without forethought was a bit too likely. With his emotions being all over the place that wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do. So the letters it was.

There was a total of twenty with fourteen being from Arya and the remainder from the other members of his family. Though they had been bound by one of his old shoelaces and stuffed inside a box, the envelopes had seemed to have browned a bit with age. Not too much damage had been done to them. Regardless he knew he’d have to still open them with a bit of care. Old paper had a tendency to be on the dry and brittle side; he didn’t need them crumbling before he could read them.

Opening the first and oldest letter had given him a small papercut, a bit of karma he reasoned. The letter itself was from his uncle, or third/fourth cousin if you were being technical though Jon wasn’t sure how all that worked. It had been written the day after Jon announced his enlistment and he braced himself for the inevitable hurt as he began reading.

_‘My Dearest Nephew,                                                                                                                    Jan 5, 20XX_

_Yesterday you announced your decision to follow in your Uncle Benjen’s footsteps, and I could not be more proud of you. I know you will serve with absolute honour and dignity, however I cannot help but lament over the fact that you will no longer be here for me to continue watching you grow into the man I always knew you were capable of being. The man your mother, my dearest cousin Lyanna, always hoped you be._

_And it’s strange, I know, for an old man of war such as myself to be so sentimental, but I have been where you have been. Where you may yet go. And I know that the road you now walk is a long and arduous one and it may very well change you, but I’ve no doubt that when you return to us, your family, it will be as an even better man. A man prepared for any and all challenges thrown his way, a man whom will stand beside my children even through the toughest winters, and a man I’m sure I will one day call ‘son-in-law’. No, don’t be surprised. I know perfectly well of your love for my beloved Arya and I know of her love for you. I know it is as unconditional and vast as the universe we live in. And I would be proud and pleased to know my precious little girl is being taken care of by the man who sees her as if she were his heart._

_In the meantime, I will continue to watch over her till you come to claim her, so do return home soon, my boy. And while you are away, just remember that I will always be proud of you and I will always love you as if you were my own and you will always be home here._

_Sincerely,_

_Eddard Stark_

_PS~ I look forward to the day I get to see my beautiful grand-children with dark hair and grey eyes.’_

Darkness swallowed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so what do you guys think? Do you wanna slap Jon? Or do you want Arya to slap Jon? lol Or do you want me to make the invisible hand of God slap Jon!!! XD  
> Or maybe you just want to give Jon a hug and tell him it'll be okay and he'll win her back... hrrmmm, I wonder what will happen? J/K I already know! :3
> 
> Anyways, if you're wondering about the ex-girlfriend... I wasn't planning on it being Dany or even giving the character a name period, but as I wrote the story she started to come across as almost being Dany. But ultimately, I'm not sure it is. And I'm not planning on having them make another appearance so... Also, before you say it... Yes, I know they're on Dragonstone so making the ex Dany would seem the most logical choice, but Jon only ended up on Dragonstone cause I was thinking about King's Landing in terms of it being like New York cause of the ball drop in Times Square and Dragonstone being sorta like Long Island so going there for the day wouldn't be such a hassle for him. And I wanted him to be living in a location that was a bit isolated but not too isolated so he could sorta disappear from his family.
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you guys think! And I hope to see you in the next chapter!
> 
> With much love,  
> Lady S


End file.
